Mary Wesley, instant soup and all change

 I just finished a great Mary Wesley, they're all great, that atmosphere she creates immediately, that surrounds you to the end of the novel.

I also like the way her characters wander in and out of each other's stories. Here Calypso, from Chamomile Lawn, has a cameo, and her son, Hamish plays a small but important part in this story. It's like Barbara Pym, where someone is described and the reader knows them from having read the novel where they were leading characters. You feel you have the inside track. 

This one is about recovering from crushing grief and the loss of a child, trigger alert in case you don't want to go there, and people plunging about trying to make life work with varying degrees of success. 

It's set mainly in London with a quick business trip to the US, and some excursions into the country. And there's a lurcher. I'm always game for a lurcher 

There's also a little echo here and there of Margery Sharp, the rangy, unconventional heroines, the men whose appearance is nothing like their inner longings, the rough trade that appeals surprisingly to some conventional women. I wonder if Wesley read Sharp. 

Wesley published her first novel at 70, so I expect there was a lot of reading in her life before then. And some of her writing comes from her lived experience with her own family, uncaring and callous to her, but paid out in her fiction, maybe after their deaths.

The storm seems to be coming to nothing much. The library closed because of the declared state of emergency, cancelling our art opening, and I cancelled my dental checkup. Then I thought I may as well cancel the cancellation, and found my dentist, who evidently works Sundays, had already reassigned the slot. 

He'll call with an appointment for the same day. Gary, who's driving me,  assures me no problem, Monday is flexible for him, so it will work. I was being courteous, not wanting to cancel last minute, but oh well. 

Lunch was soup, made from the rest of the chickpeas, tomatoes and spinach from that pasta dish. All heated together, worked fine. Canned mango chunks and yogurt, beaten with lemon juice and sugar for dessert. Easy, A noncooking day.  Another can of mango goes to the food pantry. I think someone will like it.

There being no rain, I caught up on walking, A nice half hour. It's surprising how soon your strength falters when you don't walk daily.  Weight training Sunday evening.

This account was interrupted by Gary rushing in with a pot of boiled eggs, to practice shelling them! 

He's been working on his eggs lately, unfamiliar with boiling and shelling them successfully. Many consultations! I think he's cracked (!) it now. He's very happy. I'm encouraging him to buy free range, easier to work with, more nutritious etc.  

He suddenly said "I'm going to go nuts when I don't live next door to you! So many questions answered." I think there may be a lot of calls after he moves, what with plants, cooking, medical decisions, the gamut.

Happy day everyone, teach your grandma to shell eggs, sez Ted and Big Ursy.

And resist 

See Portland's brilliant turnout for further information on the frog.

And a Happy Thanksgiving, Canajuns!